


lost boy

by ahahash1t



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bottom George, Brat GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Bullying, Childhood Friends, College AU, DNF, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fighting, Fluff, Football, George - Freeform, George is a badass, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I MEAN SLOWBURN, IRL names, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lost Boy Ruth B, M/M, Online Friends, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Smut, Song fic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, They are stupid, and a brat, based on: Lost Boy, dream - Freeform, dreamnotfound, enemies to lovers?, georgenotfound - Freeform, gogy, i want to see you cry., im not kidding when i say they are idiots, karlnap?, nerd, online friends to lovers, slowburn, they dont know its the other, top dream, when i say slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:15:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahahash1t/pseuds/ahahash1t
Summary: - dreamnotfound -Dream has known King for years now. He saved him in a sense he could never comprehend, let alone tell him.Clay starts to finally attend college after a year of recovery from an incident. King is the only thing that kept him from Home, he is taking his anger out on the people around him, unknowing of the effects of his actions.George gets accepted into a college in the US, regretting his choice soon. With the dilemma of his online best friend, Dream, and his relentless bully, Clay, he isn't the happiest.Inspired by, "Lost Boy" - Ruth B
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 13





	1. Goodnight My Moon

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello  
> this is honestly just brainrot from an au idea i had so- enjoy?
> 
> trigger warnings are going to be in notes of ever chapter please read them for your own good
> 
> this fic is also posted on wattpad btw :) (seed1e)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/// has themes of derealization, suicide, and depression (hinted)
> 
> first day

He is lost.

You would think that a school would at least give you a map of where the dorms are. Clay didn't get that luxury it seems. He was stuck blindly walking around with a shit-ton of heavy bags looking around hopelessly like an idiot. He had no clue where he even was. Courtyard? Science building? Hell? Hell. Definitely hell.

With no clue where the student help desk his he decides to suck up his pride and ask a random person how to get to the dorms, where he would promptly be passing out. He sees a person looking as lost as him right now but looking around no one else was in sight.

"Do you have any idea where we are?" Clay asks a little more desperately than he wished to come off.

The shorter man looks a little startled by the taller one but recomposes himself, "No idea. It's my first semester here and they don’t know what a map is apparently." he scoffs with a small laugh.

The two introduce themselves to each other and find a very sun-bleached map. The shorter man's name was Nick, he was studying computer science but got into the school on a football scholarship. The same as Clay. Clay was his high school's star quarterback until the incident in his senior year. He had to take a year's medical leave and his scholarship was held until that time was up. He managed to recover the best he could so he could still play football. It was still a struggle, but it was better than not going to school at all.

The football season didn’t start for another month, so he had some time to get back into shape. He wasn't in bad shape, he was just disappointed he wasn't what he used to be. He lost a few pounds, mostly in muscle, which he didn’t quite enjoy. But he wasn't weak.

The incident only left him with a few handicaps that weren't that big of a deal. His hands shake a lot though, making it pretty difficult to write things without it looking like chicken scratch. He had others but he didn't like to think about them.

When he and Nick finally figured out the almost invisible letters on the very faded map it was almost dark. It wasn’t long before the campus outside lamps were lit, illuminating the twisting pathways of the campus that were unnecessarily complex.

Clay and Nick finally reached the boys' dormitories, sighing in relief. The two went inside and pressed the elevator button labeled "up". With no sounds or lights being lit in response to the button they look at the not-so-noticeable sign placed on the elevator door, _"Out of Order"_. A mutual groan could be heard from the pair as they begrudgingly attempt to find the stair. They soon find the stairway entrance and sulk up the many flights of echoing concrete steps.

After what seemed like 100 flights of stairs they finally made it to the 7th floor of the dorms. Clay thought to check his phone to see what floor he was supposed to be on, _"B-832"._

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Clay simply said with an angry but exhausted tone.

Nick tries to hold back a laugh, his room was on the seventh floor. "What's wrong?"

Clay looks at Nick with annoyance in his eyes, he knows that Nick understands why he is so upset. He only glares at Nick before he begins to mope up the final floor of stairs, not even saying goodnight to the other. As he walks up the stairs he can hear Nick snicker bellow him, "Goodnight dude, don’t pass out on the stairwell. Clay only returns a grunt of frustration in response as he walks up the seemingly infinite stairs.

Clay reaches his floor and walks at a quickened pace to his room. _'Of course, it's at the end of the hallway'_ he thinks to himself scanning the numbers of the rooms as he goes. Finally reaching 832, he fiddles with the key of the room. The door opens with an audible _creak_ as he lugs himself in, lazily shutting the door, not bothering to lock it. He dumps the weight burdening bags to the floor with a heavy _thud_. The bed sighs with his weight as he lays down, not bothering to realize the stiffness of the mattress as he dazes off into a much-needed nap.

Not even an hour passes before he is abruptly woken up by the sound of his door opening. He looks over to the rays of light blinding his newly awoken eyes and sees a shorter man realizing he is in the wrong place. Without saying a word the man in the doorway closes it slowly and quickly speed walks away from the door.

Clay grumbles in irritation, he was woken up for no reason and the person who woke him up didn’t even bother to say anything. He tries to go back to sleep, after an hour of no success he checks his phone to see the time. The brightness of his phone leaves him squinting his eyes away in shock. He blinks a few times to adjust to the lighting and looks to see a few notifications: one from his mom wishing him luck unpacking, one from Nick seeing if it was him, and a Snapchat notification from King. Clay opens the Snapchat notification first to see what he said.

King and Clay, as King knows him; Dream, have been friends since Clay's sophomore year of high school. They were in the same grade, despite King being two years older than him. Clay never asked why but assumed he got held back or something. They were both going to college at the same time. They never shared any personal information, they don’t even know each other's real names. Neither of them thought to ask.

Clay is greeted by the blinding white screen of Snapchat as he squints to read King's message.

King  
Dude I am so lost I can't even find my dorm

Clay laughs at his friend's stupidity, even though he was in the same situation just hours prior.

Dream  
not my problem

some random dude woke me up for no reason and i cant sleep -_-

The text was sent about an hour and a half ago, despite that King's bitmoji popped up seconds after Clay sent his response.

King  
Lmao  
Stay up then  
I'm bored as hell and I don’t want to unpack :/

Dream  
so you found your dorm ig then

King  
Yeah after literally two hours of searching it was so dumb this college doesn’t know what fucking maps are

Dream  
lmao i had the same problem i only found it bc there was a map that was still almost impossible to read

King  
Sucks to be you

Dream  
you literally just found yours stfu

Clay can practically hear King scoffing at the text. Granted he has never heard his voice, and neither has King, but he knows him well enough. Clay always wanted to know things about King, but it was sort of an unspoken rule to not tell the other. They don’t know why it's like that, probably because they were so young when they first met that they were still scared of creeps on the internet, and it just kind of stuck.

Their conversation continued for about an hour before King stopped responding. Clay figured he had just passed out again, seeing that his bitmoji was just staring at Clay unmoving. King did this a lot, he would never admit that he was tired but still pass out almost every single time. Clay knew when King wasn’t fully awake, he would start to 'slur his words' they are texting but it still made sense to him. His typing would become sloppy and slow and eventually, he would just stop responding altogether, his bitmoji sitting idly by.

Clay sighed and typed out his last message to King after a string of spams trying to wake him, it never worked.

Dream  
Sleep well my moon

_You deleted a chat_

Dream  
Goodnight

Clay sighed, why did he delete the text. He called King his moon times before, but it was always in a joking context. Clay knew that King never took it in the sense he meant it in. Clay cherished King. King never knew how much he had saved him. He was almost home, but he left to be with King. He never told King what happened, King knew something was off, but he never asked. Clay owed his life to King, that doesn’t mean he loves him right?

Clay pushes the thoughts out of his head as he always did, King was his friend.

_Just his friend._

The pain in his chest was only snuffed by the pure stubbornness to not admit. To not ruin anything.

Clay sighs and tries to get some sleep. He checks the time, 2:37 am. He groans and curls himself into a ball. He loved feeling small. Though he wasn’t physically, he liked to be in small places. Anything that surrounded him like the walls he had built so carefully. He never knew why he loved feeling confined so much, deep down he did. He hated remembering it but it was at times the only thing on his mind. Home was so open it was torture. It felt like he was the only one there, the only thing in existence.

_Lonely._

The constricted spaces contrasted that. He was still alone, but he felt safe. Hugged by the small spaces. He was always a hugger, he never hugged anyone despite it. He wasn’t the most docile-looking person.

He had rough edges. His face was always stern-looking, a forever scowl. Clay never wanted to come off as intimidating. People who saw him would always make the same observation, that he was scary.

He didn’t want to be scary, he just wanted people to approach him without flinching at even the smallest movement from him. Clay eventually gave up trying to be nice. If people were just going to be scared of him, give them a good reason too.

He became the thing he hated the most in the process. By his senior year, he was renowned as the _'bully'_. He winced at the title when he first heard it. That title belonged to people who still sit idly by in his brain, torturing him.

It was too late to try and take back the title. Angrier, he made it worse. He proved it to them, he lived up to the title.

Fight after fight, he hated every one of them. But he was too far deep now, he couldn’t stop, and they wouldn’t stop. He never lost a fight though. Scars peppered his skin almost as plentiful as his light freckles. Scars from physical fights and internal ones, he hated every mark. Every _taint_. They were almost invisible when he was paler, but he began to get his tan back. He grimaced at the definite scars, you can't hide them now. His solution was a hoodie, long sleeve shirt, and undershirt, _anything_. The Floridian sun mocked him, laughing in his face. He was stubborn though. Heatstroke was a very possible outcome, but it was better than the other.

With these thoughts and memories clouding his head, he painfully fell asleep. Only to wake up in a worse place than reality.


	2. don't get lost in the clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay didn't sleep well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW// themes of suicide, derealization (hinted)

_Don't lose yourself in the clouds._

He woke up in the normal scene.

Falling.

Clay fell through the clouds, the small bits of water stinging his skin. Many people think that clouds are soft and fluffy. They are far from that. The fluffy illusion is given by the spread-out particles of ice crystals. They sting and burn when you fall through them. The smallest scratch invisible to everyone, even yourself.

Clouds are like people. They seem and appear to be the nicest thing you could ever indulge yourself in. You have the temptation to dive straight in. But when you do it hurts. No one can see it, not even yourself. But you have the image in your head of this person, and how wonderful they are supposed to feel. So you don’t stop until you are no longer the person you thought you were. Torn and mutilated.

Clay was still falling. The wind burning his skin and the clouds peppering him in small sharp pains. He had this dream almost every night. The same thing over and over again.

He would often cry after these dreams, but he stopped a long time ago. He got used to it, the repetitiveness was calming for some reason. It never changed, it never faltered. It was almost comforting. If he was scared of things changing, he knew the dream, nightmare or not, would always be the same.

The ground below him came closer and closer. He knew what was coming next and closed his eyes. It never hurt when he landed. The only thing he felt was fear at first. But then it turned into a warm blanket of nostalgia. Memories of his childhood flooding his brain, emotions mixing to form a cocktail of confusion and bliss.

With no fear, death felt like home.

~

The dream progressed.

This part of his night was not his favorite, but it couldn’t be helped.

He opened his eyes after the fall to a tall forest in front of him. The trees challenging his pride as they stood tall. He looked around, knowing what would come next.

He saw his younger self, running through the woods, silent tears flowing down his cheeks. He watched himself slow his pace to a solum walk, walking towards the tallest tree in the forest. Clay never knew why the tree was such a comfort to him. He grew up with it, but it was only a tree.

The tall tree stood where it always had. Proud and towering over the rest. Clay respected the tree for that. It was crazy to idolize a tree, but it was uplifting in a way. The tree could never ignore him, never criticize him, never _judge_ him.

He watched himself sink to the trunk of the tree, fiddling with the grass at the roots. He never spoke, only shaky breaths and small sobs could be heard. The tree was deep into the forest, no one ever came anywhere near the area. The place was virgin to any corruption.

Clay grimaced at the thought of the next part of his nightmare.

Instantly, his child self was gone and the tree was ablaze. The warm embers from the prideful tree felt like tears. Burning painful wounds into everything it touches. Crackling branches and leaves tormented him, emotions a confused clutter in his brain. He felt the tears slowly roll down his cheek as he listened to the cries of the proud tree, unable to open his eyes.

He waited to wake up, his dream coming to an end.

But it didn’t.

Clay opened his eyes. He wasn’t in his room. He wasn’t in the forest. He wasn’t in the sky.

He was in someone's arms.

The nameless character stroked his hair softly. Clay's head laying on its side in the center of the person's chest. The small arms of the figure wrapped around him, protectively surrounding him. Slender fingers grazed the top of his head. His head felt tingly at the touch, it was nice. The other tracing shapes on his back, the slow gesture calming.

Clay didn't know who this person was. He didn't recognize their features or scent.

Slowly lifting his head to look at the person he loved already. Before he could comprehend the features of the person's face with eyes blurred with tears; he woke up.

Feeling instantly empty and cold, Clay scanned the room around him. He was back in his dorm room.

He brought a hand to his cheek feeling the fresh tears on his skin. He was shocked. It had been years since he woke up from a dream crying.

The events in his dream played quickly back in his head.

_'What?'_

He remembered the usual parts of the dream: the falling, the forest, the tree, the burning. But he was shocked when he realized that there was a new part. The person comforting him for an unknown reason felt safe, and familiar. But dangerous.

The panic set in. He didn't want a new dream. He didn't want a new thing to think about. This dream was the one thing he could rely on, now it's changed. Clay felt himself become angry. The one thing he thought wouldn’t shift, broke an unspoken promise.

But he couldn't stay mad.

The dream had changed, but it wasn't one he minded. He liked the comfort of the person holding him. Protecting him.

He didn't know them, he didn't even know if they were real. But he wanted to know them.

Clay sighed.

He didn't have time to think about meeting a person he saw once in a dream. The chances they were real were slim to none. So he gave up.

Pushing himself off the stone-hard surface the college deemed a mattress he went to his bathroom. Clay turned the sink on, cold water rushing out the tap. He put his hands into the flow, cupping them to throw the water on his face.

He looked up into the mirror to see the ends of his hair darkened and small droplets of water running down his face. Looking closer at the mirror, there was a small, almost invisible, crack going through the center. Clay sighed. Of course, the school has the shittiest dorms.

He looked behind him into the hallway and saw the many still-packed bags that were thrown to the ground hours earlier. Grumbling, he walked out into the main part of his dorm.

He was lucky really. The dorms may be crummy, but they were big and he didn't even have a roommate. The entrance to the dorm was a hallway with the bathroom door to your right. If you walked further forward and turn you would get to the living space. With only one person in the dorm, it's quite spacious. A small privacy wall extends most of the way past the bathroom, blocking the view of the bed. There was a walk-in closet meant to hold a pair of peoples' clothes, but he had it all to himself. The dorm was already furnished to minimum standard; a bed, dresser, and nightstand.

Clay pushed himself up from the wall he was resting on and made his way to the pile of bags. Not all his stuff arrived yet, he only had a week's worth of clothes and toiletries. His mom should be driving up in a week or so to deliver the rest of his stuff that he couldn't fit in his car. She could have come sooner but his sister had a track tournament a few hours in the opposite direction of him. The tournament should only last three to four days, but Drista wanted to stay a day longer so she and some friends could spend some time on the beach.

Clay didn't mind that much, all his mom was bringing him were most of his clothes, some miscellaneous furniture, and bedding. He already had a blanket or two because he knew the school wouldn't give him shit.

He began unzipping the biggest bag with his clothes inside. Pulling out an outfit he changed into a hoodie and discarded his t-shirt to the ground. He never did like wearing shirts under hoodies or sweaters, the rubbing of the fabric always felt off and uncomfortable. He changed into a pair of jeans and put on a random pair of socks, not bothering to see if they matched.

He had planned to get some food and drinks so going to the cafeteria wasn't a constant trip. One of the things he needed his mom to bring was the small mini fridge he bought recently.

Quickly sliding on some shoes and out the door, he left. He realized that he forgot to lock the door last night. Then he remembered the man that just randomly opened his door and left without saying a word. He was still pretty annoyed about that, but he didn't get a close enough look at the man's face or even hear his voice.

Clay brushed it off hoping he would remember to lock the door next time. He assumed he was just lost and looking for his room, but he could have at least said sorry.

He took the key out from the pocket of his jeans and turned the key to lock the door. With a small jiggle of the knob, he walked towards the staircase, not before checking if the elevator was fixed. For the first time that morning, he unlocked his phone to see the new notifications he had gotten.

There weren't many, there never really was, to be honest, but he looked through each of them to see if they were anything important. He saw a missed call from his sister, a text from a friend he didn't bother to read, and a snap from King.

He decided to call his sister later while he was walking back to his dorm from the store, and clicked on the snap from King. They never really did send pictures of themselves to one another, mostly chats and memes. But he opened the snap to see a pile of bags laid in a messy pile in a corner with King flipping it off and the caption, "Unpacking is stupid and I'm hungry"

Clay laughed at the picture, he was in the same situation. He replied to the snap with a blurry picture of his foot walking down the stairs with the caption, "sucks to be you bitch boy"

He hit send and continued walking down the eight flights of stairs that echoed too much for his liking. He grabbed his headphones and stuck both into his ears and shuffled his playlist. Not paying attention to the song he walked out of the dorm and to the parking lot that was oddly far away.

He sat in his car for a few seconds before pulling out his phone for directions to the nearest grocery store. As he was putting in the address, he got a snap from King. He decided it best if he open it when he gets to the store. It was only a 10-minute drive so he wouldn't be keeping the other waiting for too long.

He drove the short time to the store, filing the route to memory for later. Parking his car he stepped out into the very bleak weather. The grocery store was a lot busier than he expected. It wasn't a chain store either, just a random store on the side of the road.

Clay pulled a cart from the row at the front of the store and walked in. He couldn't get much healthy food seeing that he didn't have a fridge, but he took that as an excuse to buy anything and everything unhealthy. He needed the weight anyway.

His cart was filled with mostly snacks and junk food along with some energy drinks and water. He made his way up to the cashier and bought the few things, the cashier looking shy and quiet. Tired of the awkwardness Clay complimented her necklace, "I like your necklace," he gestured to the small gold chain with a crescent moon charm that hung on her neck.

The girl looked up from her computer and smiled kindly, "Thank you. I like your bracelet." she looked to Clay's wrist that had a faded string bracelet that looked years old. He nodded politely and muttered thanks, grabbing his bags and walking to his car.

He never really paid much attention to the bracelet on his wrist. Even though it's been there forever. It’s a simple bracelet that is supposed to be a strong royal blue, red and white design. But now is a pale light blue, pink and white bracelet, faded from all the years he's worn it.

Clay smiled at the memory of the bracelet. King had taught him how to make a simple design out of embroidery floss a few months after they first started talking. The bracelet was once an anklet, but he had to move it to his wrist because it became too tight. Now it fits snuggly around his wrist.

Clay made a deal with King, "If I make this bracelet, you have to make one too". It soon turned into a small comfort for them, the bracelets. Clay never knew if King had removed the bracelet or not, but he liked to think he didn't, King's bracelet was a simple lime green and white one in diagonal stripes. A small brag towards Clay that he made a more complex pattern than him. Clay never said anything, knowing it would only boost the other's ego, but it annoyed him still.

He laughed at the pettiness of both of them, they really were childish.


End file.
